


Chapter 5 (Part 1) A Sword of Air and Darkness - Remember Who You Are

by Chibojan



Category: Loki - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor - Fandom, Thor/Loki - Fandom, Thor: Tales of Asgard, Thorki - Fandom
Genre: Brothers, M/M, Thor on Loki, Trust, hard sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6982582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibojan/pseuds/Chibojan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor manages to wrestle the promised ride for Loki, who flashes back to some earlier memories. Wild Thorki sex ensues.</p><p>This is a multi-part chapter, for it will not be quite the quiet outing Thor planned....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter 5 (Part 1) A Sword of Air and Darkness - Remember Who You Are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lys123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lys123/gifts), [Sigynthefaithful](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigynthefaithful/gifts).



"You," Thor said. "You with the green eyes, there in bed, are you going to sleep the day through?"

I sat up. It felt as though I had only been asleep for a few minutes, but I was rested. I checked my hands quickly. Not blue. That was always a good start to the day. Thor was smiling and that too was an excellent omen.

"I am awake,"I said a little fuzzily. 

"It's the customary to open both one's eyes when that happens," he said, leaning on the doorjamb, with his arms crossed.

"Both of them?" I said, aggrieved. "Brother, what do you want from me?"

"To ride you into the ground, baby brother. Get dressed and eat your breakfast," he said, indicating a tray piled with enough food for Thor and the Three. "Bal rode in this morning just to bring this up to you, I think. I was afraid he would spoon it into your mouth while you were asleep. I warn you, he knows exactly how much is on that plate…"

I grumbled a little, but to tell the truth, I was hungry for the first time in a while. And why I did not know, for last night had been difficult. If the words of the Jotun healer were true then I was some kind of mixed-blood freak but that had confirmed something I had sensed for a long time. One is either Jotun or one is not: one does not change like a chameleon. But if there was a mixture of races… I was surprised at how quietly I had taken this. But I had become hardened to violent emotional shocks. Once you have had the world jerked out from under you, the fall is never so far again.

Thor was distressed but he was hunting, and I knew how he hunted – he could encounter a three-headed Nzarh and ignore it to focus on his current quarry. I did not think he could exonerate me but the thought that he was determined to do so – that he had that belief in me- was very precious, misguided as it probably was.

And although I had not Seen pleasant things I had used my Sight, my own power and it had lifted me somehow. I did feel better and I found I was looking forward to being outside.

Thor, gathering the bolts of his crossbow in case we saw game, grinned at me.

"It will be a fine day," he said happily, and I thought, _well, it should be - it was dearly bought_.

 

 

It had taken both Thor and Sif to make this happen – Thor to petition and Sif to try and keep him from causing chaos and mayhem while he did it.

"Once again," I heard her telling him in the outer chamber. "What do we say?"

"Please," Thor growled.

"Not quite like that, I think. You know there's going to be an explosion, so prepare for it. And what do we not do, Thor?"

"We don't throw anything."

"Especially Mjolnir." 

"Damn it, Sif, I know how to negotiate, I'm not an idiot."

"Indeed you are not, but when you negotiate, it is more like a full-scale invasion. And things get broken. I want this to happen for you. Not for Loki's sake –"

I sighed. Well, of course not.

"- but because you're fretting over this."

When Thor had first broached the idea Odin had had one of his seizures of anger; Thor might as well have been asking permission to raise an altar to the Dark Gods.

"And are those he murdered going to be able to go out for a nice ride as well, Thor? Have you thought that perhaps living in luxury, freed from prison, is mockery enough of justice without parading it in everyone's face? He should be on his knees to us in gratitude!"

I don't usually use the Sight to follow Thor anywhere, let alone beyond the Chamber doors but I had a stake in this. It wasn't quite eavesdropping – more like strategic surveillance.

"Prisoners are allowed exercise, Father, and your compassion is well known. If there is blame, let it be mine," Thor said with hard won patience. _That was pure Sif_ , I thought. I owed her thanks and if she would have spoken to me I would have given her them.

I winced when I heard Odin say that. "Grateful" was a word that set Thor on edge these days. I had told him how grateful I was in the beginning more times than necessary because I was afraid I'd be sent back.

One day early on, after my parole, I came from the shower chamber and Thor teased me a bit about bathing more often than a fish. It was true - but then he had never been pissed on or lain in his own filth and that of others. I sometimes scrubbed until my skin was raw.

I said, "I never before realized before what a mercy it was to have clean hot water and be able to bathe whenever you like. I didn't mind the maggots in my food as much as being filthy. I am grateful to you, brother." I was very low, as I remember, and I said it very humbly – I was getting to be an expert in humility, and shame, and guilt: it's a pity there wasn't some sort of prize for it.

He was sitting at the table in our quarters repairing a strap on Mjolnir and he stood up and flipped over the table with a crash and Mjolnir made an angry circuit of the room before returning to him.

"You are my brother!" he exploded. "You are a prince. You do not have to be grateful to me for – for decency, which is the least you deserve. Don't say that again."

"Thor –"

There was blue fire in his eyes. "I will never," he raged, "until the very day I go Onward, forget how you looked. How you had been used. I will never forgive my father."

"It was good of him to allow you to release me," I said, trying to quiet him.

"Yes, it was _ever_ so good of Father to let me take you out of that sewage pit he turned into a dungeon. So _merciful_ ," he spat. He was seldom sarcastic and it surprised me. "It appalls me yet, Loki. And when you look at me and tell me you are grateful for clean water and the privilege of bathing, not to mention not being raped twice a day and chained with your hands above your head for twelve hours – "

I was so stunned by his fury that I froze. He grabbed me. "You will not be humble! I cannot bear this! I want you proud again. Odinson or Laufeyson, you are a prince."

"I have little to be proud of," I said bitterly. "I killed –"

Mjolnir leaped up and Thor sent it back to its resting place. "I know the count," he said. "I know what I saw you do – but I have questions about why."

"Simply because – " And I stopped. Because all I really remember is a dark and painful nightmare. I would not dispute my guilt – there were pictures, videos, witnesses, including Thor, who I stabbed – but I remembered so little. I had not blocked it out, for I had searched for that memory as well. I remembered falling – I remember torture – but my recollection ended in the den of the Chitauri and began again I was taken prisoner. "Evil, I suppose, as your father said – the Jotun need for conquest and destruction."

"You are not evil. You are my brother," he said. "I love you. Do you not yet know that?"

"I do not see how you can," I answered out of my pit of despair.

That was the wrong answer. Or perhaps, after all, the right one.

"Then let me show you," he said and lightning wrapped itself around his hands. He grabbed me up and threw me on top of of the table, wet and naked and vulnerable, not even my boots in my hand - and I began to fight.

He was enraged, I knew that, and to my eyes, out of control and I was in a blind panic – I didn't want to be held down and forced, I didn't want my body ripped open again and I braced myself against the table and kicked him. He stumbled back for a second. I wasn't fast enough and he was on me before I could get back on my feet. He grabbed my leg to keep me from kicking his face in.

"Loki, Loki," he said, and his grip on me softened. "Do you really think I would force you? Hurt you when you have been hurt so badly already?"

"I don't know," I panted. "I don't know anything for certain anymore."

"This anger is for you, not directed at you," he said and he held my unwilling leg and lifted my bare foot to his mouth and kissed it. His mouth traveled down my calf, down in the inside of my knee, to my thigh and I was unmanned by his tenderness. He bent over me, his great arms like the pillars of a fortress built around me.

"Do not doubt me, little brother," he said, and suddenly slid his arms under me. "You have cause to doubt everything, even yourself, and I know that – but you must not doubt me."

He bowed his head and took me in his mouth, his hair hanging like golden curtains on each side and I groaned, it was so good. He pulled me toward him until my knees were even with my shoulders and he had me spread wide, his arms locked around my thighs. For a few minutes I could do nothing except moan and try to push deeper into his mouth.

He lifted his head and smiled. "I have magic, too," he said. The heat from his hands burned but I can take that, it is more pleasure than pain. He caressed my mouth and brushed his fingers against my lips.

"Make them wet," he said, and I did, I mouthed them like a puppy with a bone. His eyes narrowed and I heard his breathing speed up. Then he took his hand away – I clutched for it, I wanted it back – and put one hand under my head and the one he had so cruelly taken he slid under my buttocks. I wasn't afraid now, and when he caressed me there, when he sought to love me there my body opened for him.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked gravely when I moaned. I shook my head. He found that place in me that makes my whole body shudder.

"I wish you could see your eyes. I wish you could see how beautiful you are, spread before me like a feast," he said softly.

I said, "I am not – " but he raised me up a little, kissed my open mouth.

"Tell me who you are," he breathed, stroking me inside. "Tell me." 

"You know who I am," I said bitterly. "Traitor, liar, trickster, mass murderer…"

He wrenched me up, up close to him. "No. You tell me who you truly are!"

And then I remembered the game, a hundred years gone: two little boys in this very room in a sweeter time. I was very small and so happy. So happy.

"Who are you?" my big brother asked, holding a bag of marzipan for a reward.

"Loki! Loki! Loki O-din-son!" I said with the glee children have in their own names.

"That's right! And whose Loki are you?"

"Yours. I am your brother. I belong to Thor."

"Yes, you do," he said."You are my little brother and you belong to me."

Now I was less sure of these things. I said hesitantly, "Loki. I am Loki and I…I belong…"

He slid his fingers out of me and then it was him, hard and smooth, pressing against the opening of my body. "Yes. To me, always. To Thor. Do you fear my love now?"

"No," I said, "I want you now."

"Breathe," he said and I put my head down on his as he entered me. I swore to him it did not hurt but I saw stars – I always do. But hurt is not pain - I know what pain is now. 

He changed his stance and it began to stroke that place inside me that set me on fire. I believe my eyes rolled back in my head. 

"And is that all you are?" he demanded. "Just Loki?"

I didn't know what he wanted. "I am – I am only Loki," I said with difficulty - my mind was leaving me. All that really existed was the blood pounding in my ears and the lightning crackling inside me. 

"No," he said. He grabbed my hair – madly, roughly and yet oh so tenderly – and made me look into his face. That he can be all that he is, that he can ride lightning and command thunder – and yet have that beautiful young shining face – I do not know how it is possible.

I began to drown in the blue of his eyes. "Remember who we are, you and I. Remember who you are. You are a prince of Asgard," he said, driving the words into my body with his own. Sweat ran down his face onto me, rain into river. He slowed down for a moment, which made me a little crazy. "And you are my brother, damn it." 

I fought my way up, my arms around his neck, to kiss him: I didn't want to play this game, it hurt my heart. "My Loki," he said, and it pierced me like a sword, deeper than even his hard thrust inside me. "My sweet boy," he said and I closed my eyes because if those were tears and not sweat I could not bear it 

"Tell me who loves you," he commanded then. He locked me to his body so I couldn't break away. "Say it. Tell me so I know you know." 

The lightning from his arms coiled around my legs, my thighs, up into my body. I began to buck hard, I wanted more and he wouldn't give it to me.

"Say it," he said, and would not be denied.

"I can't - " and then my voice broke. "Thor… loves me."

"Yes," he said, and gave me my reward. 

i lost hold on everything then. "I am so close," I gasped. "I am…I am…"

"Mine," he said and finished it, finished it for both of us. He went deep and I heard myself calling out as if in desperate need. He made that sound, my sound, his sound, that is almost a roar and almost a growl – and is, always, "Loki." 

We sank to the floor, me still wrapped around him, both of us drawing hard, ragged breaths. I fiercely resisted his rough tenderness when I could, as I resisted all tenderness - resisted like a starving cat, hissing and snarling but circling it too, in great longing. He shifted me around and I lay in his lap with my head on his knee. He kneaded the back of my neck - he'd done that since we were small. He strikes down my aloofness. He is my weakness - or maybe he is my strength. I was not wise enough to know.

"There's my Loki that I love best of all the world. I will not let you forget who you are – and what you are to me, ever." 

"I am fallen, Thor. So guilty. So –" 

"Put the whip down, Loki," he said firmly. It is cause for thankfulness that only one of us is ever having an emotional breakdown at any one time. He ran his fingers through my hair like great combs. "If there is anything that exonerates you, that lessens your guilt – I will find it if I have to shatter every realm with Mjolnir. I believe there is cause to do so."

Mercy. Mercy when you least expect it…

I shook myself free of the warmth of that memory – it had made my eyes burn, and not only that, was causing some uproar in my body. "Don't you start," I said, "I've no time for you," and went back into the Chamber with the Sight. Not much progress.

"He can walk around your quarters. That's more than his victims can do." I grimaced. Odin was right.

"This is not about justice, and we both know that, " Thor said steadily. "It's about compassion. He needs fresh air. He has been ill."

"So you say. But you know that is a lie. We do not become ill, and neither do the Jotun. If he wants air, then open a window, Thor," Odin snapped. Perhaps he saw the sudden flash of his son's eyes and he said more gently, "Not that I doubt you, Thor, my dear, but I fear that was a sham to gain your further sympathy. You have a tender heart."

I saw Thor close his eyes for a minute; I could tell his head was beginning to hurt and that usually presaged major property damage. "Well, if it was a sham, it was an excellent one, because he nearly died."

"You realize that would have been, in all fairness, a just outcome to this tragedy?"

I saw pretty Sif, (who was sitting very discreetly behind a column lending aid and comfort) put her hand over her face. Thor's thoughts blazed across my mind.

_I will not hit my father with Mjolnir. I will not hit my father with Mjolnir…_

That he wished me dead hurt me, but not as much as it would have two years ago. I thought perhaps he had been hoping for such an outcome for a long time.

"I am asking –" Thor said through gritted teeth, "I am – pleading with you, Father – for two hours on a horse, within our borders, no weapons, never out of my sight – and," he just couldn't hold it back, "I'll try to see that he enjoys it as little as possible." 

But to my surprise Odin backed down. "You will do it whether I allow it or not," he said sourly. "I'd rather not be defied, it hurts me. Take him, but you are answerable, I warn you."

"I understand. Thank you, Father." 

He looked at Thor and there was such love on his face for his fine son that I felt guilty. "You know, you and I, we used to be friends," he said sadly. "Now I am your enemy." 

"No, Father, never. It's just –"

"Thor, if you would give over this madness about the Jotun –" that was what he called me now – "you and I could be close again, the way we should be. Will you not reconsider? I would be so grateful to have you near me again, my own dear Thor." 

"You mean I can have your love and approval if I give up my brother?" My heart stopped – I literally felt it halt. 

"He's not your brother, my son. He's a serpent in our midst. Look at all the heartache our family has suffered. It's because of him that we lost your dear mother. I beg you to look into your heart." 

"I have," my brother said. And I knew – as I should have always known – that he was steadfast. "He is my brother and I will not forsake him. And I know who he is, in his heart, even if you do not." 

Then he bowed and took his hard-won victory and walked out.

Now, as I pulled on my boots, I knew that we would be lucky to avoid a confrontation and there would be repercussions, which Thor would have to deal with. "I'm a nuisance, " I said. "This will cost you."

"Worth it, " Thor said. "Let's go." 

Bal was waiting. He looked worn, even for him and I tried him - but I could gain no entry. He had Thor's big horse, Eir, of so pale a chestnut he was nearly gold, and a leggy black – not a white hair on him. I gave the horse my hand to nose and breathed in the sweet smell of hay and horses. "You lovely thing, " I said and he agreed with me.

"How do we come to have him?" I asked. There's a superstition about all-black horses – they are supposed to belong to the Dark Realm, which is nonsense but like much nonsense widely believed. Hostlers have been known to paint a white blaze or star on the face of a black horse to avert evil.

"I chose him for you," Thor said lazily. "Since Father thinks everyone will talk I will give them something to talk about. And let me hear it, if they dare."

 _Now who's defiant?_ I thought. I swung up on the black. It felt splendid to have a horse under me again. Bal checked my stirrups, which was unnecessary, I thought, until he shoved something in the top of my boot. I looked down and saw the hilt of a knife. Bal nodded at Thor.

"Thor, this is more risk than we can afford," I said in a low voice.

"Do you think I'm going to let you ride into the woods without a weapon?" he asked. "I'm just sorry it's not a sword."

I did hope we were early enough that Odin would be asleep or writing up edicts against me or kinging something but no – he was on the balcony outside the Great Hall. Thor raised a hand to him and he did not return the salute. I nodded – what else could I do – and his fury, thrown like a spear, crashed into my mind and nearly knocked me out of my saddle.

"Loki!" Thor exclaimed.

"I'm all right," I said, regaining my seat and reassuring my horse.

"What in the name of –" Thor began.

"Your father just wished us a good morning," I said lightly. I was not going to spoil things. Perhaps I was losing a little of my humility. I returned the compliment with interest and Odin shouted and broke out in curses. Thor turned in his saddle and looked at his father, who was apparently having an apoplectic fit - but Odin couldn't well complain since he claimed he had stripped me of all my power.

"What did you just do, you lunatic?" my brother demanded.

I gave him an angelic smile. "I said, "Thank you,"" I replied sweetly. 

And then we rode like Hell.


End file.
